I haven't updated this profile in like two years, lmao. Don't think I'll ever continue my SYOT series and I know I'm like two years late but you can reuse the characters you made for me into another story.

I like to believe I've grown exceptionally well in terms of writing since then, but I sadly don't have the time nor the motivation for the continuation of my stories. I've just finished my first term of college, which would explain why I'm even bothering to come back on here to update you all of my status. For the first time in (quite literally) years, I actually have time in my hands.

I honestly think I've gotten a hang of college life, so I suppose I'll be coming back on here once in a while to check on new stories and updates. This is probably an official statement that I would love to create tributes for anybody who politely asks. Shoot me a DM and I'll be right on it!

Now, a bit of clarifications.

If you knew me before, you'd know I like participating in SYOTs, as well as making my own. I particularly only submit Career tributes from Districts 2 and 4. I'm especially picky with this so please keep that in mind.

I also prefer creating male tributes to female tributes, but I'm not picky and willing to submit females as well.

If you are here to ask for a tribute, I would hope that you do plan on finishing the story. I sound impossibly hypocritical saying this seeing as I have two abandoned SYOTs (lmfao) but nevertheless, I wouldn't want to use up the little free time I have creating a tribute for a story that's bound to be deserted in the near future.

I can't guarantee long detailed reviews ever chapter, but I assure you I'll be around.

Asking for a tribute doesn't guarantee a tribute. I'll be reading the prologue or your other writings to see if I'm up for it. I'm incredibly picky with stories that have grammatical errors, wrong sentence structures, and all around bland writing. There's also the factor of willingness at a particular time. This means if you PM me at a busy time, I have no choice but to turn it down.

I like to think the tributes I make weirdly have a consistent good chance at winning. I mean all but two of the tributes I've submitted to completed stories reached the final eight, so I suppose I must be doing something right I hope.

I don't think I'm really expecting anyone to ask me for a tribute since I've been gone so long, but I provided some guidelines anyway. I miss you guys (if you were part of that particular SYOT frenzy around 2013-2014) and I hope our creative minds overlap once more. You all know who you are. :)

The bloody screams of those whose lives are ended once more ring throughout the Arena. Hearts of lead trudge through unspeakable horrors as they fight for a second chance, an opportunity unwanted. And above all... the Arenas are based on RPG Horror Games... are you ready? I do not own The Hunger Games or the RPGs Ib, The Witch's House, or Mad Father. *CLOSED*

"And as the first torch lit with its fiery licks and sadistic swirls, the world around me detonates in a conflagration so vast, so powerful, life before the flames becomes but a memory. The flames flare wildly, and all I can do is shut my eyes as the fires devour the world in its entirety. As the fires light up the sky." Closed.

Hot scarlet streams run in rivulets down their tortured bodies. Their lips part in agony so terrible that their screams are silent. Plagued by nightmares, they forever flee but can never escape. Let the 20th Annual Hunger Games begin. I do not own THG.

"On the Hundred and Fiftieth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that the years will not clear their sins, and they will forever be criminals to the Capitol, the two tributes will be reaped from pools of children with criminal convictions to their name." Welcome to the 150th Hunger Games!

Twenty-four walk in single file, towards doom on death's doorstep. They move in chains forged from their fate, their only hope resting in each others graves. And so they march away, the chosen and the brave, but know that when the time comes, they are forever bound to these Games. 67th Hunger Games.

Through the frigid air, their souls are blown together, as 24 hearts thrum to one beat. Yet as the white snow turns red, they fall, fall away. Until every last one of them fades gently into the darkness. The 64th Hunger Games.

"An Arena designed to crack and reshape their minds. Show them that they aren't who they think they are, that they can't escape the Capitol. It's always been about fear. And inside the madhouse, fear is all they'll know." Welcome to the 30th Hunger Games!

Only one individual would ever come close to understanding the innermost workings of that astute, rare mind that belonged to Sherlock Holmes. I was only a witness to it. I am not that person. Developing Sherlock/OC

Can you hear it? Can you hear the cannons booming? Can you hear the bodies falling? Boom. Boom. Boom. The sound echoes through the night, as 24 tributes grovel, trying to find the light. The 66th Hunger Games.

SYOT. The scent of the pine leaves would mask the stench of blood; the lapping of the gentle waves upon the shoreline would cover the screams; unseen creatures would drag them under. But was the unknown truly worse than the inevitable, which faced them head on: Death himself twirling his scythe, a hourglass in hand? Let the Games begin.

Can you hear the screams? Their calls for death? The splatters of blood? Can you see the torture they have inflicted upon themselves? The living nightmares and perpetual darkness into which they delve? Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for the 67th Annual Hunger Games. And this year, the Tributes will be facing a new weapon: their minds. /INDEFINITE HIATUS

Winged horses maul and maim the tributes, the sirens lure unwitting victims into their traps, Mount Olympus is a volcano, and the golden apples of the Hesperides are poisonous. These and other horrors await you in the mythology-inspired Fourth Quarter Quell, where the odds are never in your favor.

You keep running, but is there an end? You keep dodging, but will that knife finally slice its way to the end of your life? You keep hiding, but isn't death just around the corner, waiting for you to finally come out and face it with resigned acceptance? You look up at the artificial sky, asking for mercy. Will you finally get it?